Sessions
by blob80
Summary: Sanemi and nameless female OC's post-training workout. Steamy one-shot. Male character POV only.


_Disclaimer: I don't own Demon Slayer._

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_**Dedicated to my amazing friend, crystalblue19.**_

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She was insane coming at him like that.

Sanemi raised his forearm just as her leg came spinning around in a neat roundhouse kick that would've cracked his neck in a sickening crunch if he hadn't blocked in time. He made to grab her leg only for her to drop to the ground in an attempt to sweep him off balance. If he had his sword on him, he would've jumped forward and thrust it into her backside, but seeing as how this was a no weapons match, he settled for twisting his body in such a way that he could use gravity to deliver a more menacing blow with his fist.

She knew his fighting style well enough by now to pull her leg back the moment he reacted. Sanemi's fist met the hard ground. It cracked the packed dirt until a deep crater formed. The brief round ended with her jumping a good meter back to get out of his range. Had that hit her, he was sure it would've shattered every single muscle and bone from the knee down. She would've ended up bedridden for months, if not years. Recovering from that kind of blow would be no easy feat—not even for a demon slayer. But in all honesty, he didn't give a damn what happened to her at the moment. This was a match, and she'd slipped away from him… and so _easily _at that. Sanemi clicked his tongue in belated annoyance at the realization, before glaring up at the woman standing before him.

An ordinary demon slayer would've at least widened their eyes from the force of his blow. Some might've even stumbled back in fear at the extremely high possibility that he would kill them during a training session, but he didn't choose this woman to be his for nothing. Sanemi watched as she rose to her full height—a good half foot shorter than him—and glared with as much hostility as she could muster in her worn out state. She was fierce, but her glares were nothing compared to his. It was like a kitten hissing at a lion. Besides, there was no way she could ever scare him. Not when he knew how to bend her expressions into the most feminine looks possible.

Sanemi sneered as he returned her subpar look and used that moment to simply take her in. He noticed all of the minute changes that she'd undergone since he last saw her a solid nine months ago. Her hair was a little shorter now, though not by much. He wondered if perhaps a demon had cut it off because the edges looked uneven to him. It was still the same dark hue. Her eyes were even darker. And Sanemi hadn't witnessed it yet because he'd forced her right into a challenge the moment he saw her, but she had an easy laugh that he wanted to cut short in all sorts of painful ways.

She was breathing a little heavier than him; an indication that she didn't have as much stamina. But he knew that already, and he couldn't exactly fault her for being tired. They'd been training since daybreak. The sun had set hours ago. The only illumination came from the scant stars that littered the now dim sky. Sanemi tried not to think about how much time had passed. If he did, then he would just get hungry, and he had no doubt that she'd capitalize on his distraction by breaking a few of his ribs. She'd done it once before after all, and then had the audacity to laugh in triumph. But _fuck _if she didn't captivate him while she did it. No matter how much he wanted to purge that injury from his mind, he wanted to keep that image of her.

_What the hell is wrong with me? _Sanemi thought, his glare hardening. _We haven't seen each other in a while, but I—_

He cut his thoughts off. Swift. Like blowing out a candle. He may have been hot-blooded, but every single cell in his body was disciplined.

_No use thinking about something so stupid. _

He'd do what he was good at instead. Baiting her.

"You slacking on your training?" he asked with a little too much force. "How the fuck are you already _this _tired? You were able to fight me for a good, what, twenty hours last time I saw you? At this rate, you'll die before the night is over."

"I've been recovering for the last two months," she said in between breaths. He tried not to get distracted by the way her chest heaved under her kimono. "And you've always been better, Sanemi."

He both admired and hated how easily she could admit that.

"Recovering?" he repeated. "The fuck happened to you?"

"Got nicked by a few poisonous blades."

Sanemi's gaze drifted down to see new, thick scars on both of her forearms. The vein on his forehead throbbed in abrupt wrath at the demon responsible. "Where were you recovering?" he pressed. "The butterfly mansion?"

"Yes, Shinobu had to prepare four rounds of antidotes f—"

"And what?" Sanemi cut in. "You didn't think to tell me?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Who was the one that said not to bother them with _stupid fucking bullshit _like that? What did you write me last time? _'If you have time to send me a letter, then that's time better spent getting stronger, so shit like this doesn't happen again.'_"

"That didn't mean keep me out of the loop completely, you—"

Her sudden approach startled him. She might've been in remission, but she clearly remembered how to jump in when he was distracted. Sanemi dodged a steady fist aimed at his chest, before following up with a punch of his own that she diverted with two instantaneous slaps to his wrist and shoulder. She was quick. He'd give her that. But he was quick, too, and before she could react, he closed in on her, prepared to elbow her in the temple with enough force to shatter a boulder.

She twisted away from him for the second time that night. His blow met air, breaking the still winds with the sound of shoving.

She leapt out of his reach, before he could grab her.

"If you can run away from me so fucking well, why couldn't you avoid a few goddamn blades?"

He wasn't at all prepared for the furious, black glare that she pinned him with then. "It's that face of yours!"

He blinked. Twice. Very slowly.

"Hah?! What the fuck is wrong with my face?"

"It's so… so—"

"If you got a problem with it, then _boo-fucking-hoo_. I was born with it! And I've never heard you complain about it over the last few years!"

"Stop interrupting me," she shouted. "I love it! It's cute, okay?! I love that scarred face of yours so much that when some demon touched my head, dug into my memories, and morphed into you, I hesitated and ended u—"

"That is the _stupidest _thing I have ever fucking heard, and that's saying something. Why are you airing this shit out to me?"

"Oh, don't act like you didn't want to know how I got poisoned!"

"Did I say I wanted to know?!"

"You didn't have to!"

"Stop assuming things and—"

She closed in on him again. But he was prepared for her this time. They moved simultaneously. Her eyes widened when she realized that he had noticed her little strategy, and before she knew it, he was standing tall and immovable before her. With incredible strength, he grabbed her arm to draw her closer to him. Sanemi bent down to whisper menacingly in her ear.

"You're not getting away from me again."

And then he slammed her back against a nearby training post with enough strength to make the thick wood creak ominously. His hold shifted to her wrist, before tightening to an intolerable degree. It was getting difficult to twitch her fingers, never mind actually breaking free. His grip was unrelenting, cutting off all blood to her hand. Tears naturally stung the corner of her eyes from the feeling. They threatened to break free. But he wasn't kind enough to ease his hold. Not even when she hissed in pain.

Her free hand moved to her lower back to rub the ache there, before she gently moved a thinner post attached to the main mast that dug into her side each time one of them so much as twitched.

"You gonna cry?" Sanemi asked. He brought his face closer to her own to get a clear look at her eyes, unintentionally filling her vision with nothing but him in the process. "I've broken your bones, and some puny shove is making you cry?"

"I cried all of those other times, too."

"I didn't see you."

"Well, you were always walking away and shouting for medics at the time… and I'm not actually crying."

He roughly wiped away an unshed tear with his thumb. "Explain this then."

"Your grip hurts. It's a natural reaction."

"That's not a reaction I've got."

"I can't curse and bear it like you."

"You should learn. If you cry around other guys like this, they'll take it as an excuse to—" He was cut off by the spinning posts around them that suddenly moved when he drew closer to pin her body with his own.

"Fucking annoying," Sanemi muttered, before forcefully pushing against one about to hit his head. The small post shattered, splintering far to the side in a place that neither of them bothered looking. He did it with four more, before hovering over her without fear of getting smacked.

Sanemi stared down at her smaller figure. She was soft and smooth in places that he wasn't. She had calluses on her hands from fighting, but even he was rougher in those spots because of a lack of self-care. Her ample chest pressed up against the hard, contrasting planes of his body. Her curves were more distinguished whenever he felt them with his own two hands, as opposed to simply staring.

She didn't shy away from his gaze. Instead, she met it head on. She stared up at him with those eyes that he swore were begging for him to come closer.

Before he could, she kissed her fingertips, then pressed them against the scars on his face. He narrowed his eyes at the tenderness of her touch. She wasn't deterred by his look of displeasure. Her fingers lingered, tracing the long outlines like she loved even those mutilated parts of him. Sanemi savored every second of it. He'd amassed dozens of scars over the years—each one was evidence of his brushes with death—and while many permeated her own body, they weren't as grievous as his. Then again, he'd be surprised if they were. Few demon slayers had marks that compared to his own.

Sanemi roughly seized her hand in his.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked.

"… Reacquainting myself. It's been nine months after all."

He let go of her. Sanemi understood her desire to do that. He did something similar when he was looking at her after all.

"That's not a bad idea," he muttered.

The evil glint in his eye made her eyebrows scrunch in apprehension. "What's not a bad idea?"

"Reacquainting myself…" he trailed off. His gaze speared downwards. Before she could protest, he loosened the tie around her waist.

Sanemi stilled for a moment. He admired her form in the murky shadows, while giving her time to register what was about to happen so she could push him away if she wanted. But when she only blushed to the tips of her ears and met his eyes with embarrassed expectance, he smirked in delight. His smugness was utterly unbridled.

He didn't bother with patiently undressing her. Sanemi shoved the top of her kimono down until her top half was exposed to the cool night air. Her nipples perked in response. They hardened completely when he caressed her large mounds, one hand on each. His thumbs alternated between pressing and flicking the pink tips, while the rest of his fingers fanned out to touch as much of her skin as he possibly could. Her breath hitched. She didn't moan, but she did screw her eyes shut at the sensation of his rough hands on her body.

She grasped his forearms, then moved downwards, sweetly stroking his flesh, before covering his hands with her much smaller ones. They forced him to tighten his grip just a little bit more, just enough to turn her on. She maneuvered his thumbs, and with the help of her own fingers, together, they squeezed her nipples just harsh enough to make her sigh.

Oh, he was going to make her sing.

After that, his touch turned rougher without her prompting. He squeezed breasts and nipples alike, forcing her to bite her lip to stifle a sudden shout. A whimper managed to escape, and his adrenaline shot up at the sound. Sanemi knocked her knees open with one of his own, so he could place his thigh between them. It unbalanced her, but he held her up with the strength of his body.

"Go ahead and scream if you want," Sanemi said, as he dug his thigh as close as possible to her pussy. He rocked it as best he could in his position, hoping to create just enough friction to flare her desire. "No one's around, and even if someone comes, everyone knows I'm here right now. They'll think I'm training you."

"I think they'd be able to tell the difference between a scream of pain and one of—"

He cut her off with a rough kiss. It was harsh and demanding just like the rest of him. But she was used to his callous handling at this point. He didn't nibble or mildly request entrance into her mouth, his tongue simply shoved its way inside.

Sanemi ravished every corner as thoroughly as he possibly could. He wanted to wrap his hand behind the back of her neck to give himself a better angle, but he didn't want to let go of her breasts. So, he drew away for the briefest of moments, making sure that he squeezed her chest so that she wouldn't get a chance to properly breathe, before using his forehead to bump her own upward. She got the message and tilted her neck, even as her back arched from his attention.

The back of her head was pressed uncomfortably against the training post, and she was openly gasping his name now. Sanemi didn't spare a second to admire her form because his lips were on hers again in a sweltering kiss. He lingered there, as if to make ten thousand percent certain that her lips were plump and swollen. But even when he tried to kiss down towards her chin and collar, her fingers would simply settle on his cheeks and coerce him back to her lips with nothing more than a nudge.

If someone ever thought that she couldn't set the pace in their relationship, then they were sorely mistaken. Today, however, was not one of those days; Sanemi refused to let it be one of those days. When she tried to bring him back to her lips again, he reeled back just enough to bite her finger.

"Ow!" she cried out at the unexpected action.

Sanemi tasted blood, and he took a moment to lick the minor wound that he'd created, before unclamping his teeth. His hands squeezed her chest one final time, then moved down to rest on the curve of her waist.

"Keep yourself up," was all he said, before he dropped to his haunches between her legs.

To her credit, she did manage to stay standing… though she somewhat reminded him of a newborn fawn being forced to take its first steps. He grinned crookedly at the thought. Her entire face flushed at the sight of his expression. It got even redder when his fingers explored the defined shape of her hips. Her kimono was just loose enough for him to push past the folds until he reached the obtrusive cloth of her underwear. It tore easily under the strength of his blunt nails, then fell gracelessly down to the ground.

He didn't bother grasping any—what he deemed—boring parts of her flesh. Sanemi went straight for what he wanted. Two fingers caressed her wet slit. He watched as she shuddered from head to toe at the sensation. Very slowly, he brought his hand back out. It glistened with her juices. He licked them in front of her, sluggishly, so he could watch her face become clouded with lust as he did so.

Sanemi didn't bother exploring her pussy with his fingers. Not when there was a better option. He was already crouching before her after all.

His fingers dug into the supple flesh of her thighs, squeezing, as he pushed one upward to give him a clearer view of what lay underneath. Her gleaming pussy made him lose whatever iota of self-control he thought he had. Sanemi licked his lips. A warning, as much as an unconscious action. She knew what he was about to do. Honestly, he'd judge her if she didn't. Although her eyes shone with barely restrained excitement, her voice betrayed her insecurities.

"Sanemi, wait! We've been training—_sweating_ all day. It's not—"

The words bent into a surprised squeal when he dove in tongue-first. His mouth settled on her pussy, invading her most intimate areas for all of half a minute, before he licked her slit in its entirety and made his way to her clit, where he alternated between long periods of sucking and licking.

She stuttered out his name like a prayer. It was followed by enough moans to make him question why he didn't just do this from the start, instead of forcing her to fight him as soon as they saw each other again.

Her hands ran through his hair, tugging this way and that, making it wilder than it already was. He felt her knees bend. Every muscle she needed to keep herself standing seemed to turn into mush from his ministrations. Sanemi swiftly maneuvered her legs, so that they rested on his shoulders. His hands kept a firm hold on one thigh, while the other held onto her hip to keep her at a certain angle. Noticing this through the haze of pleasure, she used one of her hands to grasp onto a shaky post on the wooden pillar, hoping that it would keep her a little steadier. Sanemi highly doubted it did, but he was too busy lapping at her to voice that thought. Her other hand remained in his hair, yanking him whenever he was a little too rough with his teeth.

Sanemi released her with a purposely sloppy sound. She whined at the sudden relief.

He acted on instinct when he suddenly used his breaths. Thick wisps erupted from his mouth, blowing right over her in a way that had her squeezing his head tightly between her thighs and crying out his name to anyone close enough to hear. She got even wetter. So, he breathed out again, making sure to maintain his technique. It wasn't hard. He could do it reflexively at this point.

"_S—S_anemi!"

His dick strained against his pants at the sound of his name in her throat. She stuttered out every syllable in a tone that sounded a lot like a plea for more. His dick twitched uncomfortably. Sanemi really didn't need physical, _painful_ proof of how eager he was for her wet, swollen lips around him. He already knew. He became excruciatingly good friends with abstinence these past nine months without her.

He was about to continue sucking her clit when she abruptly said his name with more force. She was obviously trying to get his attention now.

"I'm on my knees here." His tone sounded annoyed, even though he was anything but. "What more could you possibly want, woman?"

It took her a moment to gather her wits, and he doubted his deep, rumbling voice over her clit helped matters. But demon slayers were nothing, if not resilient.

"I want you inside me," she paused, then added, "not your tongue."

"Fucking demanding," Sanemi muttered, pleased.

He unbuckled the belt around his waist, so he could whip out his dick as soon as he had her where he wanted. Sanemi stood and moved her legs from his shoulder to his waist in one smooth motion. The sudden change startled her. She drew closer for a moment, clinging to him, so she wouldn't fall.

Once they were both steadily leaning against the wooden training post, with him in between her legs and their faces close enough to exchange breaths, he let her move the cloth covering him away. His dick sprang forth, hot and needy, into her waiting hands. She ran her fingers over his shaft and rubbed the head over her dripping wet core.

"I thought I'd be a little nice first. You know if I go through with this," he pointed crudely down at his thick member, "I'll be going all out from the start."

"I never asked you to be gentle." She kissed his lips in a quick, but sweet kiss. Her tongue licked the corner of his mouth, as she whispered, "I'll make sure to return the favor after this."

His dick throbbed at the mere thought. There was no more waiting after that. He wasn't patient enough to tease her now anyway.

The head of his dick went in easily enough. Sanemi inhaled sharply at the feeling, but he didn't stop there. He plunged inside, not wanting to give her time to adjust to the intrusion.

Sanemi grunted upon impact, while she let loose a moan that prompted him to repeat the motion out of instinct alone. The slick heat that enveloped him made every thought other than '_fucking move' _fall away from his mind. He shoved deep inside of her. Every thrust was fast and hard. Each press of his raw cock was stronger than the last. Sanemi didn't give up speed for force—he could do both equally. His breaths helped him maintain his energy even in the face of the mounting pleasure that bubbled unbearably in his gut.

The sound of their desire permeated the air. Skin slapped against skin. The wood behind them continued to creak, as Sanemi put all of his effort into fucking her. Her want for him was inescapable. It was an easy, slippery slide in and out that she encouraged with wanton whispers.

"You got wet so fucking quickly," he said, while moving. "If you wanted me this badly, you should've said so from the start."

"You're one to talk, you… you—"

The wooden post they leaned against groaned when he rammed into her harder. As hard as he possibly could. It elicited a high-pitched scream from her throat that tore through every conscious thought he had in his mind. They both gasped for breath.

Soon enough, she was muttering broken strings into his ear; whispers meant only for him. Though if he ever had to admit what he could make out from her lips at that moment, it would only be three words—_harder, ahh, Sanemi!_

He watched, as she caressed one of her bouncing breasts with one hand, while her other scratched red marks on his shoulder and arm. Sanemi growled at the sensation. When her moist walls finally began clamping down around him, he licked his thumb so he could rub harsh circles around her clit to get her to the brink faster. He didn't want to just careen her over the edge, he wanted to make sure she flew a hundred fucking meters away with a mind-numbing orgasm.

Sanemi felt her muscles clench.

Her lips opened, about to shout out his name, before he sealed them shut with his mouth. Despite what he said before, he cut off whatever piercing scream he knew she wanted to release because he didn't want any nearby nighttime stragglers to hear. That sound was for him and him alone.

Her pussy tightened all around his cock, milking him, even as her juices spilled out to coat her thighs. He continued, chasing after his high, while she held tightly onto him to ride out her own.

The extreme tightness of her insides was too much to bear, and as he shoved in faster and rougher, he came not even twenty seconds later. White, hot liquid gushed forth inside of her, surging as quickly as a high tidal wave over the shore. Sanemi didn't think it was possible, but by the end of it, she was even wetter. Stickier, too.

They stayed like that for a while, basking in the afterglow.

He continued pumping in and out to keep the waves of pleasure going. His thrusts were shallower now, although his dick remained sheathed inside of her. He didn't want to pull out. Not yet. This round was nowhere near enough to satisfy his craving.

He wanted to tell her _'again,' _but when she let out a needy exhale, his voice was stifled by an urge to look at her. But just as Sanemi made a move to pull back his upper body, so he could get a better look at her face, the sound of something snapping commanded their attention. They had both of their stellar reflexes to thank for what happened after. She tightened her hold around him, clinging to him like he was her only lifeline in an endless sea, while he stepped away from the training post that suddenly fell with a resounding '_crunch' _onto the dry dirt.

It was silent between them, as they took in what happened.

Then…

"What kind of weak ass training post is that?" Sanemi exclaimed.

His head whipped back to face her when she laughed. It was like the sound of tinkling silver to his ears. Pure joy that reminded him of happier times.

"I think it held up pretty well."

"It shouldn't have broken at all."

"You were a little too rough," she admonished, though she grinned to let him know that she approved. She purposely clenched her insides, then rocked her hips with his dick still inside of her. "But don't worry. There are still three other training posts."

Sanemi looked at her, utterly stunted by her response. He closed his eyes, blocking her from his view just long enough for him to gather his bearings.

"I'm not some easygoing guy, you know." He smirked. "Think you can outlast our twenty hour training record?"

"… I can try."

The sound of splintering training posts carried on late into the night.

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_A/N: I may or may not add more chapters for Sanemi and other characters to this in the future. It depends on how much time and motivation I have. This will continue to be listed as complete even if I do add anything. As always, please review._


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